


I'll wear a mask for you

by RichieBrook



Series: Last Shadow Snippets [4]
Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Boys Kissing, Fluff, M/M, Makeup, a silly little drabble, angst if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 07:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16888008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichieBrook/pseuds/RichieBrook
Summary: This is just a silly little drabble inspired by Miles in makeup.





	I'll wear a mask for you

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote some more nonsense because it's 3AM and I don't feel like sleeping. I usually rewrite my stories over and over again, but this is just a silly drabble that took me less than an hour to write so you have been warned. Set on the day of Miles' London gig.

He’s smiling, Alex is. He drags his index finger over Miles’ skin, starting at the outer crease of his eye and dragging it all the way to his ear, tucking a strand of hair behind it before he pulls back. Miles opens his eyes then, smiling toothily as Alex inspects his finger, now covered in a swirl of shimmery silver and pink. “You look amazing,” he drawls, studying Miles’ darkly made up eyes and the bright, colourful shimmer around them. It’s half an hour before Miles has to go on stage and perform for a sold-out venue. He’d normally be jittery with nervous excitement, but somehow he feels oddly calm.

“So – this is what it’s like then, eh?” Alex asks. “I leave for France for a week or so, and when I come back you’ve suddenly turned into Bowie?” He’s sitting on Miles’ lap, legs on either side of Miles’ legs. His hair is much shorter than Miles is used to, and he’s wearing black jeans and a heavy woolen coat that is still buttoned all the way up. As if they’re outside, rather than in Miles’ dressing room. He looks dark. Serious. Miles frowns and reaches back to dip a finger into the eyeshadow palette on the table behind him. His eyes lock with Alex’s for a moment, but when he doesn’t get a reaction, he reaches out a hand to drag his finger over his friend’s right eyelid, coating it with the same silvery shade that is on his own cheekbones. Alex pushes his hand away half-heartedly, but he’s chuckling. It’s stupid and fun and it feels nice, and he may or may not have had a little too much to drink tonight already. “Do it again,” he encourages him, so Miles drags his finger through the shadow once more, coating Alex’s left eyelid with it this time. “You look like a ghost,” he mutters. “A black and silver ghost. You need some colour in there, or I’ll start to think that I don’t know you anymore.”

Alex lets out a huff, arching an eyebrow. The end of that eyebrow has become covered in silver shadow as well, and it intrigues Miles. He catches himself staring.  
“I could say the same about you,” Alex says. “How long have we not seen each other for, a month? I loved the look when I came to see you perform in Paris, but I didn’t think you’d go full – ” He doesn’t say anything for a moment, closing his eyes as Miles drags his index finger over his eyelids once more. It really does feel nice.

“Full what?” Miles murmurs. Even with his eyes closed Alex can tell that he’s barely even listening. He hums quietly as he feels Miles’ fingers dance over his cheekbones and eyelids, undoubtedly leaving shimmery traces everywhere.  Then, he shrugs. “Full – glam. I like it, though. I like the colours. And the clothes. The sultriness and the, er, the boldness of it.” He pauses, then grins. “You finally look as loud as you are.”

“I’m not _loud_ ,” Miles counters, and he’s about to open his mouth to get into an entire argument about why he isn’t loud but just _passionate_ , thank you very much, but thinks better of it. Alex opens his eyes again and smiles knowingly. “I like that you’re loud,” he muses. “That means I don’t have to be. And I’m not sure when you decided that I was going to be your canvas, but I hope you’re making me look good, because I’m not taking any of it off before I join the crowd to watch you on stage.”

Miles presses his lips tightly together in concentration, holding in a laugh. “I’m trying, but you keep moving. At this point you just look like you fell into a tub of glitter face first.”

“Not a bad look, then,” Alex says lazily. He watches as Miles tries to wipe the silver and pink sheen off his fingers before he proceeds to undo the buttons of Alex’s coat. They don’t say anything about it. They both prefer to think that he’s still wearing it because he rushed inside twenty minutes ago and threw himself onto Miles’ lap without bothering to take off the stupid coat. They both know he’s really still wearing it because he couldn’t be bothered with dressing up for the occasion. Miles peels off the coat and tosses it aside carelessly, then carefully smooths out the crumpled fabric of Alex’s black button-up. They share a look. Alex looks apologetic. It’s been a long few months of touring with the Monkeys and even though he’s had quite a few weeks off already, his break hasn’t felt like a proper break up until just now.

“Close your eyes again, la,” Miles murmurs, opting for a brush this time in an attempt to salvage his creation. Alex does as he’s told, letting Miles have his fun. It’s not long before the eyeliner comes out, and Miles bites his tongue in concentration as he attempts to apply two somewhat straight lines to Alex’s eyelids. Alex’s lips are slightly parted, and when he finishes, Miles presses a barely-there kiss to them.

His friend’s eyes open immediately and he stares at Miles for a moment. “That kind of day, is it?” he wants to know. It makes Miles’ heart skip a beat, uncomfortably so. Alex has a new girlfriend now and now that Miles thinks about it, he isn’t sure this is still something they do. It’s been a while. She’s been there for every single time he and Alex have met lately, and they haven’t shared more than a quick peck on the cheek, that time Alex joined him on stage in Paris.

“That kind of day,” he agrees nonetheless, and closes the distance between them once more. Alex doesn’t protest. His legs tighten around Miles’ and he deepens the kiss, greedy hands cupping the back of Miles’ head and squeezing his upper arm. What’s next, he wants to ask. Where are you performing tomorrow? Can I come with you, I won’t take up any space. I’ll sleep with you in your bunk. It’s an oddly comforting thought after all the travelling for the Monkeys tour. It certainly beats going back to LA or Sheffield or Paris.

Miles pulls back again, pulling Alex from his thoughts. “You need some mascara,” he muses, and Alex huffs out a quiet laugh. He watches as Miles coats his lashes with the tar black substance, happy to just sit there for a moment as he catches his breath.

Finally, Miles sits back to inspect his work. “I messed up,” he concludes, snorting with laughter, and Alex shrugs his shoulders. He couldn’t care less about what he looks like. If Miles wouldn’t have to go on stage in fifteen minutes, he’d drag him home and wouldn’t let him leave the bedroom until they’re both perfectly sure again that they fit together better than anyone; until Alex feels properly at home again, or maybe even until after that.

Someone knocks on the door and announces that it’s time. Alex slides off Miles lap reluctantly. “I’ll be in the far back, but I’m sure my face will shine so brightly that you'll be able to see me from where you’ll be standing,” he grins. Miles grabs him by the collar of his shirt and demands another sloppy kiss. “Do I get to take you home tonight?” he wants to know, and Alex simply nods. He hangs up his coat on the rack, right next to Miles’, and gives himself a quick glance in the mirror, laughter bubbling up in is chest at the sight of the shimmery mess that is his skin. His smile widens as Miles comes to stand next to him and smiles that toothy grin of his at him in the mirror.

“Are you really going out there like that?” he wants to know, his eyes twinkling as he holds in his laughter.  
“Watch me,” Alex grins. He pulls Miles in for one last kiss, whispers some words of good luck into his ear, and then he’s out the door, on his way to join the growing crowd to watch Miles on stage. Miles stares after him, a dazed smile tugging on his lips.

 


End file.
